Duncan's Drama
by jonnyboy17
Summary: READ Chapters 1 thru 6. After Quigley's killed, Isadora runs away from her problem and Jenny decides to remain friends, Duncan tries to move on. Summer Sanders likes him. He's released from jail. But will he ever be able to get on with his life at last?
1. Beginning

**This is the start of the last part of the Quagmire trilogy. Baudelaires Bullied, for example, was about the Baudelaires and Quagmires, told through the narrator's eyes. Quigley's Quest focused more on the six-some, told through Duncan's eyes. Duncan's Drama will be about Duncan. Violet, Quigley, Klaus, Sunny, Isadora, and Jenny (see last chapter of Quigley's Quest) are included, but it mainly focuses on Duncan's life. I hope you enjoy this one, and I'll update other stories within.**

Preparing for another school year at Prufrock Prep, backpack slung over shoulder, I bounded up the steps leading into the building.

Isadora and Quigley were waiting for me outside the office lobby.

"Where're the Baudelaires?" I asked. They shrugged.

If you're wondering about my summer, here's how it went: the one place we mainly hung out was the mall, and the Baudelaires would collect bits and pieces of the fortune we were given by the Spats parents and go spend it. It was pretty cool.

Then my cell phone rang. I answered it. It was Jenny.

I'd met Jenny when I was in the hospital. Nero had shot me in the arm in an uproar, and I met her there.

"Hey Jenny," I said. "It's the first day. I'm a junior. How's medical school?" There was a pause. "It's good," Jenny said on the other end. "We get lots of quizzes and study material, but it's good. How's your arm?"

"Fine," I said. "I have to go now. See you later?" I hung up and put it back in my pocket.

"I wonder who the new principal is," Quigley said. "It's probably going to be Ollie Westin," Isadora said.

I shook my head. "He resigned, remember?" "Oh yeah," Izzy said. "Now he goes to some other school. What about Mr. Bogner, the substitute principal we had last year, after Nero died?"

"He was okay," Quigley said. "But he had a sour mouth. He didn't swear, but his lips were always puckered and his words were spoken as if he just had a giant package of Sour Punch Straws."

"Yeah," I said. Just then, a tall, hulky man walked through the doors.

Everyone stared at him. "I'm the new Vice-Principal here at Prufrock. There will be no official principal for quite some time, so I'll be managing. Now get to class."

Everyone was silent. Not a soul moved a muscle.

"I said, _GET!" _the man screamed.

We scattered throughout the school. "Wait," Isadora said. "We don't even know where our classrooms are."

"Good point," I said. I ran back to the man and said, "Mr.…." "I'm Elyas (I know how to spell, but for some reason, I just want it to be y instead of i. don't mind!) Finch Verne," the man said.

"Well, Mr. _Verne_, we haven't had our classrooms announced yet," I said. "Your classrooms will be announced momentarily," Elyas Finch Verne said. "Just go into any classroom and wait ten minutes."

I ran back to Quigley and Isadora. "Mr. Elyas Finch Verne says for us to go to any classroom and wait for just ten minutes," I said.

They shrugged, and we announced it to the crowd of students. In seconds, we were in classrooms.

Never has ten minutes gone by so fast. I'm not kidding. Ten minutes seemed just like ten seconds.

Quigley, Violet, and I were assigned to Ms. Kennard. Klaus and Isadora were assigned to Mr. Obede.

When we got to the classroom, we found seats and I sat between Quigley and Violet.

The middle-aged looking woman was trembling. "H-h-hello ch-children," she stuttered. "I-I a-a-am y-y-your h-h-homeroom t-teacher. B-b-but I kn-kn-know th-that-"

"T-T-T-TODAY, TEACH!" Pierce Farms yelled. Everyone laughed. Except me, Violet and Quigley.

Ms. Kennard looked straight at Pierce, and then fled the room. The class was rolling in laughter.

I don't know how, but I was kind of upset about that. Either the room was really cold, she was really nervous, or she had a problem. Either way, I didn't think it was right to laugh at her.

I stood up. "That's not funny," I said. "Sure it is," Pierce Farms cried. "She's a stutter machine!"

I went out the door after Ms. Kennard. "Are you okay?" I asked.

"N-no," she stuttered. "My mouth-" I noticed she wasn't stuttering anymore.

She felt her tongue, and said, "What's going on? I was stuttering-" "You were probably just nervous," I said. "Come on. Let's go back inside."

She retook her place at her desk, and I went back to my seat.

"Sorry," she said. "Now, your first-period teacher will be Mr. Hawkins. Second period you have gym. Third period is Mrs. Mabel. Third period is-"

"M-M-Mr. Germaine," Pierce Farms taunted.

Everyone laughed a second time. Ms. Kennard flushed.

"Shut up, Pierce," Isadora said.

"Admit it Quagmire, its funny!" he cackled.

"What's _funny _is my fist down your throat, whaddya say?" she warned. Pierce swallowed and shut up.

After the rest of our teachers were announced, we were assigned lockers. I had a locker next to a hot girl named Summer Sanders.

Quigley spotted me putting books into my locker one day when he said, "Some guys have all the luck."

I turned. "What?" "You got a locker next to Summer Sanders, the hottest girl in school," he said.

I shrugged. "So? I have Jenny." Quigley smiled and headed to gym.

At gym, I got into the locker room and saw Pierce Farms duking it out with Quigley. They both had bloody noses and cuts on their mouths.

Pierce laid a fierce uppercut at him, and Quigley went flailing backwards. I caught him from the back, and stepped between the two.

"That's enough," I said. "What's going on here?"

"Your brother, Duncan, stole my Axe," Pierce said, giving Quigley a vicious look.

"Why would I steal yours when I have my own?" Quigley yelled, sporting a can and shaking it in Pierce's face.

Pierce shoved him away. "That's mine and you know it," he said threateningly. "After school, I'll teach you to put your grubby hands on my property."

Pierce turned to me. "If your brother doesn't give me my spray deodorant back right now, I'll have to take it from him by force."

I noticed he was holding something in his hand. A knife.

"If he resists, he'll be singing _Slice and Dice_, written and performed by Pierce Farms."

He changed into his gym clothes, and on his way out, I grabbed his shoulder. "Even if that _is _your Axe," I said boldly, "you better go nowhere near my brother with that knife. Taking back a self-acclaimed item, especially if it's unsure of the owner, is one thing. Killing a guy isn't."

He forced himself away and headed for the door. I grabbed the hem of his shirt and pulled him back. "You kill my brother, and I'll go after you myself."

He looked at me a minute, then left, slamming the door.

I turned to Quigley. "You all right?" I asked.

He nodded and wiped some blood running down his nose. "Tell me what happened," I said.

"I set my Axe down on the floor, and when I got back, it was gone," he said. "I saw him holding the exact same can, that had my name on it, and I tried to get it back. He swung at me, and I swung back. Then I caught the can, and he swung at me again. I fell back when you caught me."

"Are you sure it's yours?" I asked. He showed me his own name encrypted on it.

I got dressed and we headed into the gym. There was the boys' half and girls' half usually, but today we were all together.

We even did stretches together. There're some things you're really excitable about, but don't really feel like talking about.

The day had finally ended, and on the way down the stairs leading outside, Pierce tripped Quigley.

He whipped out the knife and held it up to Quigley's face. "You have thirty days to return my Axe," he said. "I suggest getting saved."

Then Pierce left. My cell phone rang.

I answered it. It was Jenny. "Hi," I said. "What's up?" "I can't make it tonight," she said. "I know how you were going to sneak off campus, and I'll pick you up and we go see a movie, but I have to stay late."

Crap. I'd been planning this a while. We'd go see a movie and we'd hang out at her place a while.

"Oh, that's okay," I said. "Maybe this weekend?" "I'll try," she said. "See you, Dunn."

My date was canceled, my brother's life was being canceled, and life couldn't get any worse. Seriously. It couldn't get any worse.

Something had to be done. My father had always told me that in life, sometimes things were worth fighting for. My brother's life was definitely one of them, and Jenny and I hardly had time together. Something had to be done in that field, too.

My brother was in grave danger, and Jenny had no time for me. My personal life was probably going to crash soon, and possibly my brother's life as well.


	2. Poems and Klaus, Please Shut Up!

The next day, at breakfast, Izzy was reading Prufrock Prep's weekly memo, _The Daily Dormer. _

"Look at this," she claimed. "There's an article here that says there's a poetry contest coming up." "You're entering?" I asked. She nodded. "I guess so. I'll probably do contemporary. I wouldn't have much to win with now with just couplets."

"But you're good at those," Quigley said, taking a bite out of a biscuit with strawberry jelly. "I myself would probably enter if there was a cartographic section of poetry."

We got a big laugh out of that. "Quigley, you are hilarious," said Violet, sitting down, followed by Klaus and Sunny. Klaus had a heaping tray-full of food.

"You're really hungry, aren't you?" Izzy said.

Klaus nodded. "I'm on another growth spurt. And I _have _to gain some weight. If I don't eat up, I'll be as skinny as my sisters."

Sunny bit his arm. "Ow!" Klaus cried. "Sunny, if this were bleeding, I'd have to send you to the pound."

"We are _not _skinny, Klaus Alexander Baudelaire," Violet said sternly. "We just haven't had good food in a long time. And Sunny, no biting. But what the heck-"

She took a hit at Klaus's torso. He yelled, "Enough already! If you were Mafian hit men, I'd be dead by now."

"Like in Scarface?" Sunny asked.

Violet groaned. "Isadora, you shouldn't have let her watch that movie."

Isadora and Sunny spent the day together over the last weekend of summer. I was out with Jenny, Violet and Quigley were at the movies, and Klaus was hanging out with Ollie Westin.

Isadora bought Scarface and was watching it when she thought she was alone. Then Sunny came out and watched it with her. Stupid Izzy was so absentminded she didn't even make Sunny close her eyes at the graphic parts.

Violet and Quigley and I got back when they were just ending it. Violet yelled, "Isadora Quagmire! Letting Sunny watch an R movie practically alone! Are you out of your mind?"

"Hush!" Isadora screeched. "I'm trying to see if Al Pacino plays the main guy."

"It says so on the cover, retard," Quigley said, picking it up. "That's the last time we leave Sunny alone with you. You'll probably play Dirty Dancing and let Sunny be present."

"No, silly," Isadora said. "The Graduate is _so _much better."

Back to reality.

Pierce Farms walked by our table and shook a fist at Quigley. Then he mouthed, "29 days left."

"What was all that about?" Isadora asked.

I opened my mouth to speak, but Quigley said, "Nothing. Don't worry about it."

"Pierce is threatening to kill Quigley, because he thinks he stole his Axe," I said aloud. Quigley glared at me.

"What's Axe?" Sunny asked. "Is he going to cut Quigley down like a tree?"

Quigley buried his face in his hands and grumbled something.

"Its spray deodorant for men," Klaus said. "Violet, don't quit your day job. Sunny here still needs an education."

Violet slugged him in the arm and said, "Can't we report Pierce or something? That's called a threat."

"I know what a threat is, and I've got everything under control," Quigley grumbled.

Klaus shrugged. "What'll he kill you with? A machete? A sniper-rifle?"

"Those are too big," I teased. "But I did see Pierce with a switchblade-"

"Shut up!" Quigley yelled. "Just stay out of my business, all of you! I can handle the guy, and I don't need any of your help!"

He took his tray and went to sit at a solitary, distant table.

"He's going through serious depression," Isadora said. "Talk to him, Duncan."

"I offered him my help before and he declined," I said. "If he wants to handle this himself, I can't help him."

"Dad always said-" "Now you want to talk about what Dad always said?" I growled. "I'll tell you what he always said. He always said, 'Eventually a man has to learn to stand on his own two feet. No one can help him. It's something he has to do for himself. That's what he always said."

I stood up and emptied my tray into the trash and said, "I'll see you guys in class."

I went to my locker, and withdrew the book I'd need for Mr. Hawkins's class.

When I shut the locker door, I saw Summer Sanders standing there. "Hi Duncan," she said, smiling.

"Hi," I said, heading into the classroom. When class started, and Quigley was at the pencil sharpener, I saw a note sail through the air and land on his desktop. It came from the direction of Pierce Farms' desk.

I picked it up and read it. It said, Quagmire, hand over the Axe in 29 days or… Then there was a crude sketch of Quigley, and a knife hovering to the left of him. Anybody could tell what it meant.

I stuffed it into my shirt pocket and when Quigley returned, he handed me a freshly sharpened pencil, then one to Violet. We had to write about our summers. We all wrote the same thing.

Even little Sunny had to write one. Guess what she wrote, the little _darling_: _This summer I got to see Scarface starring Al Pacino. Isadora Quagmire let me watch it with her. One day, I hope to stand alongside Tony Montana and show Don Vito Corleone how a _real _gangster fights_. _I also got to see The Godfather another time. Marlon Brando is such a good actor, I'd nominate him for the Oscars if I could. Oh, and I went shopping and met lots of people. But I can't remember where we got all the money_._ Also, I saw some show called Hell's Kitchen on FOX Network. Some reality TV show about cooking and some cranky guy that always says _bleep _too much._

I have to admit, though, she spells better than most second graders.

Violet, however, wasn't pleased. "Sunny, we got the money because we saved Carmelita Spats, remember?" she said. "And you don't have to write about movies like Scarface or The Godfather. What about Willy Wonka or Toy Story?"

"Those were okay," Sunny said, "but Scarface was awesome."

Violet gave up in a huff and walked away.

At lunch, I wasn't eating anything when my cell phone rang. "Jenny?" I said. "I haven't eaten anything. Isn't it your break right now?"

"Yes," she said on the other end. "Great!" I said. "I can sneak off campus, you can pick me up and we could grab a bite."

"I don't think so," Jenny said. "Why not?" I said. "I won't get in trouble. I'll be extra careful."

"See, my car's in the shop," she said reluctantly. "It'll be at least another day till we can go do something."

My heart sank. We hardly did much together as it was.

"Oh," I said. "Another time, then?" "I hope," said Jenny. "Bye."

She hung up.

I turned to Isadora. "When are you going to enter that poetry contest you were talking about at breakfast?"

"Submissions are due tomorrow," she said excitedly. "I'm already done."

"That quick?" Klaus said. "So that's what you were doing all during class."

"Can I read it to you guys?" Isadora asked. "Sure, why not?" Quigley said, slurping a carton of juice.

"I call it, 'Pierce's Piercing'," Isadora said.

"Oh, Lord," Quigley moaned.

"It's a limerick," she continued.

"_There once was a guy named Pierce._

_He was very fierce-"_

"You're telling me," Quigley interrupted. "Shut up and let her finish," Klaus said.

"_-He got a piercing,_

_In his rear's end;_

_Now Pierce isn't so fierce."_

At the end, she beamed. "How was it?" she asked.

Klaus kept slurping his grape juice until there was nothing but the sound of sucking air and struggling juice being forced up the straw with heavy difficulty and strong effort.

Violet elbowed him in the ribcage and said, "Isadora that was very…interesting. What do you think, Klaus?"

"It was beautiful," he claimed soulfully. Izzy looked flattered.

"Yes, it was beautiful," he said again. "Beautifully _informative!"_

"Hey, what's that supposed to mean?" Izzy asked.

"It was beautiful," Klaus said yet again. "It was so beautiful it put a beautifully _ugly _pit in my stomach! Thanks a lot!"

Isadora opened her mouth to speak, when a cafeteria lady came buy with a platter of lasagna. "More helpings, kids?" she offered merrily.

She flipped a slice onto Izzy's plate, then mine, Violet's and Quigley's.

When she got to Klaus, he refused. "I'm sorry," he said, looking straight at Isadora. "But someone…or _something _put a top on my esophagus. Also, that is the ugliest lasagna I have ever seen in my life. It has green gunk growing out of the inside, and blood seeping out, with human meat baked right in."

The lady made a face and then said, "Kid, the _green gunk _is spinach, the blood is tomato sauce, and the meat is ground beef."

She started off, when she turned and yelled, "One last thing: for all complaints about cafeteria-produced food, call 1-800-BITE-ME!"

She stomped off.

After five minutes, Izzy pulled a folded piece of notebook paper out of her shirt pocket and said, "I have a backup poem. This time, I'll take NO NEGATIVE COMMENTS!"

She read it. "Called 'The Lilies Bloom,'" she announced.

"_The lilies bloom, as the sun ascends_

_Straight into the blue-painted sky._

_With elves dancing and deer springing,_

_Worries, off banks of seas, dry._

_Shepherds tend and flocks explore_

_Various meadows of green._

_They merge together as up builds the weather_

_As the most beautiful sight ever seen._"

She finished it off. "So what do you think?"

Everyone, even Klaus applauded. Even people at the next few tables applauded her. She beamed deeply. "I hope the judges will like it," she said.

"They better," Quigley said. "That was awesome, sis."

"Thanks," Izzy said.

Just before daily classes ended, Izzy submitted her poem.

We were all waiting outside the classroom.

"What _is _the prize, anyway?" Klaus asked. I shrugged.

When she came out, Klaus asked her.

"The prize is five hundred dollars and a free tuition for a year," she said. "The free tuition probably wouldn't do that good," Violet said. "Unless we were to get Ollie Westin back here for his senior year."

"You know that's not going to happen," Quigley said.

"Let's sneak off campus later for a celebratory dinner," Klaus proposed.

We all agreed, and planned to walk off campus to dinner that night.


	3. Discriminated

The next day, Quigley and I were waiting at a table in the cafeteria. Isadora was nowhere to be found.

I looked at my watch. "Where _is _she?" Quigley asked. "Is she really _this _excited about the contest?"

I heard the door open, and I saw Isadora, carrying her knapsack, shove her way inside.

"Get outta my way," Izzy snapped, pushing some guy with a milk carton away. His carton went flying, and landed unsuccessfully. It was already opened, and it splattered across the floor.

"Thanks a lot, Isadora," the kid, I recognized as Denny from my science class remarked. He crouched and grimaced in disgust, watching the milk flow across the open.

"Any time, antedennyluvian," she snapped, heading for our table.

"She doesn't _look _too excited," I said.

She sat down. "What's wrong with you?" I asked. "You're acting like a savage pit-bull mutt."

She glared at me. "You want to know what's wrong with me. YOU WANT TO KNOW WHAT'S WRONG WITH ME?"

"What's wrong with you?" Klaus said, as he, Violet and Sunny sat down.

She roared like a lion for about five minutes straight. "You wanna know what's wrong? I'll tell you what's wrong. I've been discriminated against by a sexist!"

Violet gasped. Quigley, Klaus and I had shocked expressions. Sunny looked confused.

"I don't get it," she said. "What do you mean, Isadora?"

"You're telling her this time, Violet," Klaus said, forking in his king-sized omelet. "I'm not going to be Sunny's official term teacher."

Violet sighed. "Sunny, someday you're just going to have to know what these things mean," she said. "I know you're only a young child, but you have to start somewhere. We won't always be around to explain things to you."

"But what does it mean?" Sunny asked.

"Well, in Isadora's case, the person collecting the poems for the contest wouldn't accept hers because she's a girl," Violet explained. "Isadora, did any other girls turn in poems?"

"I don't think so," Isadora said.

"Was the teacher male or female?" Quigley asked.

"Well, it wouldn't make much sense if it was a female teacher, would it?" Izzy quipped.

"Well, who was the teacher, anyway?" I asked.

"Mister Appleby," she said through clenched teeth. "Mister Clyde Terrence Fcking Appleby."

"Isadora Katherine Quagmire!" Quigley cried. Violet covered Sunny's ears.

"So what?" she snorted. "What do you mean, so what?" I yelled. "You let Sunny watch two movies that are too explicit in violence for her maturity level practically unaccompanied, and now you swear in front of her! I'm ashamed of you. We're all ashamed."

Isadora sighed. "Sorry, Sunny, all of you," she said. "But I'm just so mad. Can't I report it to the new Vice-Principal?"

"From the looks of how he runs the place," I said, looking around, seeing a mini-food fight start at a table at the far end of the cafeteria, "I doubt Mr. Elyas Finch Verne will care."

"I doubt anyone will care," said a sniveling voice. We turned to see Pierce Farms standing over us.

"Go away, Farms," Isadora said. "We're not in the mood."

"Don't worry, I'm not here to bother you _all_," he said. Then he jabbed a finger into Quigley's chest. "28 days," he said. "You wanna give it back now and be let off the hook, or do you wanna die, Quagmire?"

"Let him alone," Klaus said. "_Let him alone,_" Pierce mimicked.

Klaus grinned. "Were you in any way related to Nero Tyrannous? I heard you weren't at his funeral. What a caring relative you are!"

We all cracked up at that. "Shut up Baudelaire," Pierce growled. "This doesn't in any way concern you." He turned back to Quigley. "28 days. Remember that."

"You remember that you tried to come at me with your little knife, and I kicked the bloody crap outta you," said a deep voice.

We all turned around. It was John Hermann. He was a buff, and by buff I don't mean fat. I mean muscular. As in strong. As in bodybuilding.

Anyway, he was a couple inches taller than Pierce yet his same age. "Beat it, Hermann," Pierce said, his voice cracking. "None of this concerns you."

"It will concern me if you don't move," John said stiffly. "I need to get something from Duncan."

I had elbowed John in class the day before and said at breakfast the next day I needed to talk to him.

Pierce reluctantly moved, but made threatening gestures at Quigley on the way to his seat.

"Let's talk over by the trashcan," I suggested.

"Yeah?" John said when we were safely away from the table. "What'd you want yesterday?"

"I want you to keep an eye on Quigley," I said.

He frowned. "Your triplet brother? Why?"

"Did you see how Pierce was threatening him back there?" I asked.

"You're afraid of _Pierce Farms?_" John asked incredulously. "Did the anesthetic they gave you in the emergency freeze part of your brain or something? Pierce is all talk. You know he couldn't do anything to your brother. He'd get expelled."

"But that's just it," I said. "I don't think our new Vice-Principal, Mr. Verne, really cares. The other day he walked right past a kid being thrown up against a locker and his money demanded of. He did absolutely nothing. Besides, what if Pierce and Quigley were alone in the locker room one day after Quigley didn't give him back his supposed Axe, after the thirty-day period?"

"If that's what you're afraid of," John said, "I'll keep an eye out for him in the locker-room, and bathroom too. But I don't think you have much to worry about, Duncan. Pierce may be able to talk big, but he can't back it up, or at least well. I speak from experience."

"Was that what you were talking about back there?" I asked.

John nodded. "One day, Pierce thought I took his cell phone. It was missing for a long time, and I had the exact same type. He said if I didn't return it in thirty days, he'd kill me."

He chuckled. "To this day I can't believe he even tried against me. The big day finally came, and we were in the locker-room, see. Just as he prepared, the gym teacher waltzed in and yelled, 'Boys! Hurry up and get out! One minute!' So Pierce said, 'Just you wait, Hermann. Tomorrow's another day.'"

I was listening intently. "So what he do?" I asked urgently. "Time's running out. Class starts in ten minutes."

"Nothing," John replied. "At least, not for a while. He kept on saying, 'Tomorrow I'll get you, Big John. Tomorrow. Wanna talk to a preacher?' He said corny stuff like that. But it was three months later that he attempted it. We were in the locker-room. Just the two of us. I was stripping my shirt off, and digging my gym shirt out of my duffel bag. I saw out the corner of my eye, Pierce with his knife, coming at me slowly."

"Weren't you scared?" I interrupted.

John shook his head. "I whirled around and said, 'Pierce, you might as well drop that blade. You're not gonna do anything.' And he said, 'Don't think so, Hermann? Watch me.' And you know what I did?"

"You grabbed his neck and stuffed him inside a locker?" I asked. John shook his head.

"You used him for a new skateboard?" I asked. John shook his head again.

"Then what'd you do?" I asked. "I walked closer," John said. Pierce backed a foot away, then stood his ground. 'You're askin' for it, Hermann,' he said. He held the blade closer. Then I slammed my heavy duffel bag into his stomach and punched him in the face. The knife went flying across the room, and I caught it. 'Pierce, I could put you out of my problems,' I said. 'You've been tormenting me for four months. I don't have to take it anymore. I could kill you right now and be done with it.' He stared at me with big eyes.' Then you know what I did?"

I shook my head. I honestly didn't know.

"I broke it in half," John said. "By the handle, I mean. And I threw it in the trash. I won the war, Duncan. And I wasn't afraid the whole time."

My face grew red. "Well, you're wrong," I said crossly. "Quigley isn't stronger than him. Were you in the locker-room that one day, seeing Pierce duke it out with Quigley?"

John nodded.

"Quigley was getting whipped!" I said. "If I hadn't shown up, I don't know what would have happened."

"Duncan, it's not about how much stronger or weaker Quigley is than Pierce," John said. "But it _is _about how strong Quigley is mentally. If he can think right, he won't have to worry about fighting Pierce. Battle and war are two different things, Duncan. Quigley doesn't have to win the battle to win the war."

"Don't talk like that," I said.

"I don't mean it like that," John said. "That doesn't mean he'll die or anything. But it does mean he doesn't have to fight to win the war. Not all wars have to be fought to be won. Think about it."

He left, as did the rest of us as we headed off to class. I thought.

**I just thought you guys should know I won't be updating till at least Friday or Saturday. Maybe even next week. I'm going to church summer camp today. Usually, when I return from camp, I'm really moody about the Internet. One minute I'll feel like updating. The next I'm like, "Nah, not today, I'm still pretty tired. I'll watch T.V. or something." See what I mean? It's not that I don't like you guys. If I didn't, I wouldn't publish such _magnificent _stories on FFN. laughs It's pretty strange how moody I am when I get back, but I'm updating now, so…**


	4. Isadora, Sit Down!

On the way to first period, we passed Mr. Appleby. He gave Isadora a look, and kept on walking.

Usually first-period is the longest, but it went by so fast it's indescribable.

It seemed like an eternity since I'd seen Jenny. So right before third period I phoned her.

She answered. She was doing something, and I heard a male voice in the background. "Hello? Duncan?" she said.

"Can we meet at the edge of my school's campus tonight?" I asked. There was a pause, and I heard flipping pages. There was an extended "Sure" and we agreed.

I walked with Quigley by my side. Pierce was all-talk, but he wasn't a wire-thin freak. He had a bit of muscle, and obviously, Quigley couldn't take him.

Then when I was talking to someone I knew, Pierce threw Quigley up against a locker and got him in a hard headlock. Quigley tried aiming blows at his stomach but it was no use. Then Pierce started slamming him into lockers.

When Pierce eventually stopped, I grabbed him firm by the collar. "Touch my brother again and you'll have to deal with me," I threatened.

"So what?" he said casually. "I ain't afraid of you, Duncan."

"You're afraid of John Hermann," I said. "Leave him out of this," Pierce growled. I let Pierce go, and checked on Quigley. He had a slightly bloody nose, but otherwise was okay.

That night, I quietly snuck out to meet Jenny. She was lying on the grass, and she appeared to be asleep.

I shook her awake, and she said, "Oh, Duncan, it's you. What time is it?" I looked at my watch. "Uh, about a quarter till nine."

She bolted up. "Oh no!" I looked at her. "What's wrong?" "I was supposed to work late," she said sheepishly. "Sorry."

"B-but you just got here," I said. She shook her head. "Actually…you didn't designate a specific meeting time, did you?"

I shook my head. "I don't think so…in any exact terms, no I did not." "Well, I don't think I'm busy tomorrow night," she said. She pulled out her Palm Pilot and tapped her stylus to a few buttons and there was a weekly schedule. "Nope, nothing tomorrow," she said. "Tell you what. Since we can't do anything tonight, how about tomorrow, we go catch a Blizzard and go to the movies?"

I nodded. "Sounds good. I mean, if there's no random popup in your schedule, like the past week." She looked away. "Sorry…but there's been a recent accident, and plenty of people are piling into the hospital. I promise nothing will get in the way tomorrow."

She looked at me. I looked at the ground. She sounded pretty sure of herself, but what if she had to work late again. She unlocked her car and got in, and drove off.

The next day, during the first-period stampede, I saw Isadora talking to Mr. Appleby.

"Look Quagmire, I'm gonna say this _one _last time, so listen and listen well. You CANNOT resubmit, you CANNOT sass me, and most importantly, you CANNOT bother me over and over! You got it?"

"What do you have against the opposite sex, Clyde?" Isadora hissed. "You will respect me and you will call me _'Mr. Appleby'_ for that is my name," Mr. Appleby growled. "Now get to class before I give you a tardy slip."

He stomped off, and Isadora mumbled, "Bite me."

During class, the winner of the contest was announced. "The winner of the Poetry Contest is…" Ms. Kennard drum-rolled on her desk. "Viktor Martinez!"

We all turned around. Viktor Martinez is this Mexican guy who sketches on his desk and foams when he's mad. Sometimes he even draws in his notebook during term. What could his poem have been like?

"Why don't you read us your poem?" Ms. Kennard suggested. Viktor grinned. "Yeh, shoore," he said. He pulled a crumpled piece of paper from his pocket and began to read, then stopped. "It's a limerick, and it may be offending," he said.

Ms. Kennard frowned. "Then let me read it," she said.

He handed it to her, and she read it aloud:

"_My name's Viktor, _

_And it's not Ricktor,_

_So shut up idiots and scum, you're rude."_

We all stared. She kept reading:

"_You think you're hot stuff,_

_So get off your duff;_

_Hot stuff's my favorite food."_

I didn't know if it was supposed to be funny, but everybody laughed. Except for me, Violet and Quigley.

"What do we tell Isadora when she finds _Viktor _won?" Quigley said. "She'll practically be _insulted, _as if she already isn't!"

"Duh!" Violet said. "She probably already does, anyhow. But what we need is a way to get Isadora to read her poem out loud, in front of the entire student body. If the majority likes it, and they learn Mr. Appleby didn't accept it because of his discriminating, they'll force him to let her win."

"Forget it," I said. "Vice-Principal Elyas Finch Verne has no concern whatsoever for what happens. He's like a robot, except most decent robots would fight crime. Verne's creed towards it is, 'I came, I saw, I paid for the ticket.' Face it. He just doesn't care."

"Wait a sec," Quigley said. "How can he be vicing, if there's no official principal?" "There's probably a real principal coming soon," Violet said. "That's what he said," said I. "But I won't be surprised if Mr. Verne stays longer than his welcome."

At lunch, Klaus said, "So who won the poetry contest?"

Isadora glared at him, then forked in some spaghetti and chugged down her glass of water.

"Viktor Martinez," I said. Izzy said nothing. But she looked over to where Viktor was sitting, and went over to him. She whispered something in his ear and his swelled to the size of earmuffs, and she returned to our table.

"What was all that about?" Quigley asked. "I told him congratulations, and I was sure his poem was so horrible that Appleby had to make him win or he'd kill him," Isadora said.

Then she excused herself and went to the bathroom. I heard she threw up.

The next period, we had Ms. Paulo. She's Hispanic, and everybody used to say that she's related to Viktor since she's the only other Hispanic in the school, except Julio Cortez.

"Doesn't it suck to have your mom as a teacher?" Lewis Berwick joked. "Shut up," Viktor said. "We don't even have the same last name. Mine's is Martinez. Hers is Paulo."

"Congratulations, Viktor," she said, as everyone applauded. "You get five-hundred dollars and a free tuition, for next year, no?" "Don't remind me," Isadora grumbled.

"Quagmire, don't be jealous I'm a better poet than you are," Viktor said cockily. "Why don't you read us your poem?" Izzy suggested. "I didn't hear it last time."

Viktor blushed. "I-I don't know," he said. "It may deem offensive an' all-" "If you're risking that, why'd you write it?" Isadora challenged. "But read it. We all want to hear it, don't we?"

Everyone beat on their desks and chanted, _"Read it! Read it! Read it! Read it! Read it! Read it! Read it! Read it! Read it!"_

"That's enough!" Ms. Paulo yelled. "Viktor, please read it, if you are comfortable doing so."

Viktor read it.

Everyone applauded. Isadora folded her arms. "Now, in the poem you're implicating that people make fun of your name, correct?" she asked. Viktor nodded.

"But no one does," Isadora said. "So it really doesn't make sense." Viktor shrugged. "The poems don't really have to have a point to it."

"Also, in the last lines of the poem, you said, 'you think you're hot stuff, so get off your duff; hot stuff's my favorite food.' The other part didn't make sense, so would it make sense you like hot food?"

"Sure, I do," Viktor said. "Don't you?" "Sure," Isadora said. "But do all Hispanics like hot food? Do you, Julio?"

"Yeah," Julio said. "Especially huevos rancheros." "What about you, Ms. Paulo?" Isadora asked. "Do you like hot food?"

"Well, yes," Ms. Paulo said. "But Isadora, we do have a lesson plan. Let's continue with class, shall we?"

"Does _everybody _like hot food?" Isadora asked, standing up. I elbowed her in the ribs. "Sit down and shut up," I mumbled. She turned to me. "How about you, Duncan?" I think she was serious.

"Hot food's okay," I said. "Now sit down." "Violet, do you like it?" Isadora said. "I thought we came to learn, not to take a poll," Violet said. "Yes, I like hot food. Now come on!"

"Klaus?" Isadora said. "Isadora Quagmire, take a seat right now and let us learn," Ms. Paulo warned. "I'd hate to send you to the office."

"Anybody like cold food?" Izzy volunteered, as if she hadn't heard Ms. Paulo.

She was sent to the office.

We waited outside. "What happened?" Klaus asked, as she stepped out back in the lobby.

"He told me to stop my rude and disruptive behavior," Isadora said. "I tried telling him how Appleby discriminated me, but he wouldn't listen."

"What was all that hot food/cold food stuff about?" I said. "You acted like a drunken Mexican Harley girl." "Somebody had to show Martinez what was coming," Izzy said. "That's the worst poem I ever heard."

"Okay, it sucked," Quigley said crustily. "But you didn't have to show him up like that. You didn't even read your own poem!" "So?" Isadora snapped. "Face it. Heck, he probably only one because Appleby favored him, maybe nothing to do with discrimination at all!"

"So you don't think you were discriminated?" I asked. "I didn't say that," Izzy said.

Pierce Farms walked by. "Time's running out, Quagmire," he said threateningly. "Axe Unlimited is only six bucks at Wal-Mart Super Center. Want to buy me a new one, and keep the one you stole?"

"Want to shut up and get out of my face?" Quigley hissed. We all gasped. So did everyone in the hall.

Pierce walked right up to Quigley. "What'd you just say to me, Quagmire?"

"You heard me," Quigley said. "Get out of my face and shut your venom-trap. And that was my Axe to begin with; I'm not "giving it back" or buying you a new one. So shut up and go milk yourself."

Pierce didn't make a move. But he said, "Locker-room. Tomorrow. Be there."

Then he stomped off.

"Dude, you just stood up to Pierce!" Klaus said. "With every action there's a consequence," Violet reminded Klaus. "Luckily Sunny's in her class right now," Isadora said.

"You've exposed her to graphic violence and strong language, how about a verbal confrontation in the hallway?" I said.

She went to the bathroom, and John Hermann came out of the male restroom.

That night, at dinner, I said, "Jenny and I are going out. See you later."

I snuck out of the cafeteria, and I realized the front door was right across the office, where Mr. Verne and the office-workers were eating a pizza they'd apparently ordered.

I crouched, and made my way to the door. Then I stood, flung it open, and ran for the edge of the campus.

Jenny was in her car, and she was waiting for me. The engine was running. It was a red Corvette convertible. I jumped in and buckled, and then she said, "Which movie should we see?"

I looked at a copy of the newspaper lying around. "How about, _Fantastic Four_?" I suggested. She nodded. "All right."

We stopped at Dairy Queen, and then headed for the theater. Apart from _Fantastic Four_, we also saw Batman Begins, which is now one of my personal favorites.

She dropped me off back at school, and I headed back to my dorm. Elyas Finch Verne was standing guard on my dorm building. Oh, crap!

I quietly snuck along the back of an array of tall shrubs aligning the school lawn. Then I reached the back of my dorm building.

There was a backdoor. However, some office workers were standing there as well. What does a guy have to do sneak back into his dorm?

Izzy, Quig and I were really good at climbing trees. But I was always the best. There was this fifteen-foot tall tree in our backyard, almost no branches or hand/foot momentary placement foundation. There was, though, a large, thick, long branch at the top. I'd racy Izzy and Quigley to the top, and win.

Now I was being faced with the choice of trying to sneak in or sleeping outside. Just then, I remembered my cell phone and dialed Quigley.

After two tries he answered. "Hello?" he said. "Quigley?" "Duncan?" "Yeah," I said. "You see, I'm in a little trouble here. I'm at the side of the building, and Vice-Principal Verne is guarding the entrance, and there're a couple teachers at the backdoor. Do you think you could get down here to the back door, and start distracting them long enough for me to slip inside?"

"Duncan…" He sounded weary. I heard some movie playing in the background. "Come on!" I said hurriedly. "I'll give you five dollars. If I get busted again, I'll be suspended-or worse!"

"Fine," he groaned. "I'll be down in five minutes."

It was pretty cold out here, and I noticed Mr. Verne was only wearing a shirt with the sleeves rolled up and not very low trousers. Plus, I heard him yell, "Sure is hot out here!" as if anyone would reply. He didn't even have much fat on him! Man, what was he made of, anyway? Fur and wood, possibly, or perhaps marble stone?

Then I heard Quigley's voice, "Ms. Bellum! Mr. Allan! Someone's trying to sneak in the front way!"

Ms. Bellum said, "Preposterous! Mr. Verne is there." "No he isn't! He just drove off! Come out and see!"

She and Mr. Allan made their way out of the building, flashlights equipped. I dove behind a tall shrub, and when the coast was clear, I took off for the building. I came in the back door, and Quigley and I scrambled back up to our dorm room. I wonder if Ms. Bellum and Mr. Allan knew the door locked behind them.

When we got up to the room door, I said, "Unlock the door! Quick!"

He checked his pockets, and said, "Um…" "Oh Lord, no…no," I moaned.

"At least I locked Ms. Bellum and Mr. Allan outside," Quigley said optimistically. "Mr. Verne's probably going to unlock the door for them," I said. "Let me see if I have my lock-picks with me."

Last summer, we all made lock-picks, in case we ever forgot our keys.

I pulled mine out of my pocket. "Bingo!" I cried. The door next to us opened, and Dave Stanton stepped out. "Did somebody mention bingo?" he asked. "No, now go back to your room," Quigley informed him.

Dave ignored Quigley and said, "Hey, is that a lock-pick?" I nodded. "Lemme see," Dave said, reaching a hand towards it. Did I mention my lock-picks are on a keychain?

Before I could do anything, Dave grabbed it away. "Hey, give that back!" I yelled. Dave shut his door and locked it. I pounded on his door. "Gimme that back, you little weasel!" I shouted.

I turned to Quigley. "Do you have yours?" I asked. He shook his head.

Just then, Quigley got an idea. "Hey, I know!" he said excitedly. "We could climb up the side of the building and-" "That's exactly what I was thinking of doing before I called you," I said glumly. "It probably would have been a good idea, except we have no rope or anything."

"You could bribe Stanton," Quigley said, "with money." I turned and stared at him. "Are you serious?"

"Try it," Quigley suggested. I groaned and got out my wallet. I pulled out a dollar. I knocked on Stanton's door. "One dollar if you give me back my lock-picks," I said.

He answered, "One dollar? That's it?" "Five dollars," I said. "Final offer."

The door opened a crack. "First hand over the money," he said. I shook my head. "Sorry, that's not how it works," I said. "Lock-picks first. Then money."

"Gimme the money now or you never see these things again," Stanton said. I groaned and shoved the five-dollar bill under his door.

Five minutes passed. "Okay, I'd like my lock-picks back now," I said. "I'll pay you handsomely for them," Stanton said. "How's twenty dollars?"

"How's nothing?" I said. "Okay, I'll keep them," Stanton said. I was about to smash his door down on top of him, when I got an idea.

"Say Stanton," I said. "Are you a lady's man?" "Sure am," he said. I opened my wallet and got out my former girlfriend Brielle's picture and phone number.

"I know a girl who's interested in your type," I said. "And good-looking, too."

There was a pause. "Do you have her picture?" he asked. I slid it under the door. "She's pretty hot," Stanton said. "And she's interested in the Stantonator?" "Yep," I said. "I have her number too."

"You do?" "Yeah," I said. "And I can give it to you, if you give me back that picture, the five dollars, and lock-picks."

"All right, all right," he said. He opened the door wider and gave them back to me. "What's her number? No, wait, wait, wait, let me write this down." He got a pencil and paper ready. "It is 555-0101." He wrote that down, and I put the picture back in my wallet and the lock-picks in my hand and the five-dollars in my wallet as well.

He shut the door, and Quigley said, "Was that really her number?" I shook my head. "No way!"

I unlocked the door, and put the picks back in my pocket. We talked about my night, and watched Napoleon Dynamite. It was at the part where Lyle the farmer shoots the cow as a school bus passes by, and all the kids scream that made us jump.

I asked him about Pierce Farms, and reminded him about their fight in the locker-room tomorrow.

"I wish I'd kept my big mouth shut," Quigley said. "Sure I'm scared." "But he might not fight, though," I said. "John Hermann told me they fought months after Pierce declared war." "This is different," Quigley said. "I'm going to bed. Good night."


	5. Betrayal

Quigley was up bright and early the next day. He took some fake blood in a tube and poured it into a small container, which stuck to his palm. Then as I got out of the shower, a towel draped around my waist, he said, "It'd be good if you could give me backup today."

"You don't have to fight!" I said, as I got dressed. "John Hermann-" "John Hermann isn't me," Quigley said. "John Hermann is a big guy. He can fight his own battles. But if you don't want to back me up today, that's perfectly fine. It's probably a battle I should fight for myself."

I realized it was useless trying to persuade Quigley he didn't have to fight. It probably was dangerous, too. Who knows? Maybe Pierce would try and sneak a knife or something. I guess that's what I was really afraid of.

I called Isadora and told her Quigley was going to fight. She'd thought that he probably wasn't going to. "Oh, no," she said. "He can't fight. He'll get his butt whipped!" "Look Izzy, it's something he has to deal with on his own," I said.

"Hold on," she said. "Violet wants to talk." Violet came on the line and said, "Duncan? Tell Quigley he can't fight." "I'm sorry, but he has to," I said. "If he can't deal with this kind of thing now, he never will. We won't always be around."

Before I hung up, Isadora said, "Duncan, this could prove fatal. Why doesn't Quigley just give him back his Axe?" "It belongs to Quigley, and he's not backing down anymore," I said. Then I hung up.

On the way to the locker-room, I said to Quigley, "Can I get you anything?" He shook his head. "I'm fine."

When he opened the doors, he turned to me. "I don't want you in here," he said. "Are you sure?" I asked. He nodded.

He disappeared inside, shutting the door. I went to lunch along with everyone else, for it was twelve o'clock.

At twelve fifteen, Quigley still wasn't back. "Are you sure he's okay?" Violet asked. "I hope so," I said, spooning in some fruit salad. "You and Klaus should go check on him," Isadora said. "He'll be fine, okay?" I said. "Don't worry." I looked at my watch.

"Tell you what. If he's not back by twelve thirty, which is fifteen minutes till lunch ends, Klaus and I will go in. But he already told me he doesn't want us in the locker-room." "What if he gets killed?" Violet cried.

"Then we kill Pierce," I said seriously. "Swap blood for blood."

At twelve twenty-nine, he wasn't back. Then it ticked twelve thirty. "Come on, Klaus," I said. "Can I come?" Sunny asked. "Stay here," Violet told her sister. "We don't want you anywhere near the fighting."

Klaus and I headed down the hall, down the stairs, and all the way to the end of the hall, where the locker-room was. I pushed open the door.

Quigley was lying on the floor. His eyes were shut. I don't know if he was unconscious or…I don't want to say the other word. He had blood on his mouth, and some blood on his shirt.

Pierce was standing over him. "You," I whispered.

He turned to me. "You killed him!" I screamed. "You killed my brother, now I'm gonna kill you!"

I ran over to him and got him in a choking headlock. I punched him in the face as many times and as hard as I could. He slugged me in the stomach and I fell backwards. Klaus got him in a chokehold tightly around the neck, and threw him up against a locker.

I went over to Quigley. His eyes swelled. "D-Duncan?" he stuttered. "D-d-don't know if I-I'll m-m-make it." Then they shut.

"Let's call the police," Klaus said. "Forget the police," I said, walking up to Pierce. "We'll handle this one on our own. We'll just kill Pierce right now." "Are you sure?" Klaus asked.

"He killed Quigley!" I yelled. "I don't care if I spend eternity in prison. I _will _have revenge."

I searched Pierce's pockets, and found a switchblade. I pressed the button and the blade popped out. "No!" Pierce cried. "Don't kill me!"

"You weren't all fraidy when you killed my brother," I said coldly. "Hold him, Klaus. I'll slit his throat." "You can't!" Pierce screamed. "You'll get expelled!" The doors slammed open, and Isadora, Violet, Sunny and John Hermann came in.

"Sunny? Violet? Isadora? What're you guys doing here?" "What are _you _doing?" Violet asked. "Killing Pierce? You guys can't do that!" Isadora cried. "Why not? He killed Quigley," I said, almost tasting blood in my throat.

Violet turned to me, her head trembling. "What…did…you just _SAY?" _she screamed. I felt tears touch my eyes. She, Sunny and Isadora ran directly to Quigley and wailed their hearts out.

John Hermann came over to us. "You've done your work now, Pierce," he said. "How does it feel to have finally killed a person? That's what you've wanted, starting from when you thought I stole your phone. Is this what you wanted?"

"No!" Pierce cried. "Don't kill me!" "Guys, you probably shouldn't kill him," John said. "Report him." "Elyas Finch Verne doesn't care!" I screamed. "Not to the Vice-Principal," John said. "To the police. You have cell phones, right?"

"I want my revenge!" I screamed. "I want my brother! I'm gonna kill you, Pierce!" John grabbed the switchblade away. "You will have revenge, when he's put away in prison," John said. "Not by killing him. Let's go."

We were halfway out the door, when we heard a gun clicking. We turned. Pierce was holding a handgun. "Don't you dare," he said threateningly. "Get your hands up. All of you!"

We obeyed. He turned to Violet and Sunny and Isadora. "You girls, too. Hands up. Now!"

Sunny screamed. Violet turned pale. Isadora just stared. But they all put their hands up.

"Nobody's leaving this room," he said, turning back to us. "But gym's in two hours," I said. I looked at my watch, with my other arm up. "And right now it's one o'clock. We've already missed time."

"See that window over there?" Pierce asked. He beckoned to the window on the side of the wall, the one that opened easy.

"I'll kill you all and escape through there," he said. "But at just the right time, you can join your friend here."

"At least let little Sunny here live," Violet said, chin trembling. "Kill us all if you have to, but let her live." "Why should I spare any one of you?" Pierce asked. "None of you are any better than the other."

"But we're all better than you, Pierce," Klaus said. "You're a murderer and a dirty pig, that's what you are."

Pierce whacked Klaus in the side of the head with the gun, knocking him out. "Klaus!" Violet cried, rushing to him.

Pierce cocked the aim to her. "Get back, Baudelaire," he warned. She evidently obeyed.

After about an hour of standing, he said, "In one minute you will have the privilege of joining your friend in joyous harmony, and big puffy clouds and crystal mountain water."

Then Sunny zipped her pants. Pierce whirled. "What was that?" he cried.

"Now!" I screamed. I dove at him and tackled him to the ground, trying to wrestle away the gun. It was hard; he had a pretty good grip on it. Then I kicked him in the stomach and he went flailing backwards. I caught the gun and aimed it at him.

"You're outnumbered, Pierce," I said. "Give up." "My shoe's untied," he said. "Let me tie it." He bent down, and then fast as lightning he whipped up the cuff of his jeans and pulled out a pistol from its holster.

He aimed it at me. Then he pulled the trigger. It practically ricocheted off a locker and hit the floor. I fired back. I didn't miss.

He fell to the ground. Blood started streaming from his chest.

Sunny, Violet and Isadora screamed. John stared, eyes wider than saucers. Klaus awoke, his hand clasped around the side of his face.

"What happened?" he asked. "Duncan saved us all, but in a violent way," John said. I shrugged. "But I wish I didn't have to shoot him," I said. "I wanted to see him die, but I didn't want to do it myself."

"Did you kill him?" Sunny asked, horrified. "What do you think?" Violet screamed. Sunny glanced at her curiously. "Of course he killed him, Sunny! Do you see Pierce, moving, huh? DO YOU?" "Jeez, Duncan," Isadora said crossly. "Now we're probably all going to jail." "We shouldn't go to jail for Duncan's actions," Violet said angrily.

"What is _wrong _with you people!" I yelled. "He fired at me first! And how can you take his side all of a sudden! He killed Quigley, and I just saved all of our lives! You should be thanking me, not criticizing me for doing what was going to be done! So why don't you shut your mouth Violet, before you even _try _to say we're going to jail! You all are witnesses! He killed Quigley, and he fired at me! What was I supposed to do, not fire back and more than likely be killed?"

"I'll tell you what you could have done," Violet shouted. "You could have called the police first thing you got in here! You're such a brutal and sadistic freak you didn't even have the mind to THINK!" "And where were _YOU_ in the police-calling situation, HUH!" I yelled back. "What did you do, Violet? Stand around and occupy yourself weeping? I'm the only one who took legitimate action in this situation while the rest of you were scattered, exploring the open! So why don't you shut up and LISTEN for a change!"

That was obviously the wrong thing to say. Violet ran from the locker-room. "What'd you do that for?" Isadora snapped. "What do you mean?" I cried. "She wishes I didn't fire back! We'd all be dead if I didn't take action!"

"Maybe she's right, Duncan," John said. "You were right to take action, but maybe in the wrong way. Maybe you should have called the police first. You had every right to fire back after Pierce shot at you, but maybe there was a way for Pierce to be placed in custody so you could see him put away for good."

Just then, who should run inside but Elias "y instead of 'i'" Finch Verne and a team of police officers? They spotted me with the gun and tackled me.

"You don't understand!" I yelled. "That boy over there lying dead on the floor with a gun in his hand-he killed my triplet brother who's over there and took a shot at me and attempted to kill us all! I _had _to fire back!"

"Why should we believe you?" an officer snarled. "Because I have witnesses," I declared. "Right? John? Isadora? Sunny? Klaus? Tell him!"

They all looked so hesitant; I would've smacked them if I could. I saved our lives, and the least they could do was play eyewitness to the alleged crime!

"You guys were standing right here!" I screamed. "Tell the police! You were frickin' EYEWITNESSES! John, tell them! Pierce killed Quigley and took a shot at me!"

John the tall, hulky high school senior who was always so big, now seemed so small. He just stared at the ground. "You guys have to tell them!" I cried. "You're the only ones who can! Do you _WANT _me to go to jail? Klaus, you were right here!"

"I got knocked out," Klaus said. "And my head's still kind of sore." I got an idea. "But tell me, WHO knocked you out?" I demanded. "Because the same person who knocked you out was the same person who killed Quigley and took a shot at me."

"Actually, Quigley, I'm beginning to get sidetracks with the aftereffects of amnesia," Klaus said strangely, his hand still cupped around the side of his face. "Quit talking like that, and I'm NOT Quigley!" I screamed. "Quigley's lying dead on the floor! I'm his triplet brother, and there's my triplet sister, Isadora. Tell them, Isadora!"

I felt tears come to my eyes as I saw none of them even opened their mouths. Sunny stared at me, and Klaus was scanning the room adamantly.

"Come on kid, we're going to the police station," the officer said, whipping handcuffs around my wrists and dragging me away. "But I'm innocent!" I screamed. "I'M INNOCENT AND YOU KNOW IT, JOHN! ISADORA! SUNNY! KLAUS! YOU KNOW ME!"

**Pretty tense chapter, huh? Well, pretty much the reason I did it was so it'd catch you guys' attention. I just wanted some reviews; that's all. But three reviews and you get the next chapter.**


	6. Jail

**Since you guys are so shallow, reviewing other stories and not mine when I asked, regardless of what I said, I'll update, in case you "feel like it."**

Whoever said jail wasn't a bad place to be was one stupid son of a btch (excuse me!) I only got one phone call, and I used it to call John Hermann, just about the only person besides Sunny and Klaus who wasn't mad at me.

I mean, Klaus still felt a bit woozy, and what would Sunny say?

No answer. The food served was a loaf of bread, stroganoff and water/coffee. The cell I was in had no bed. All I had to sleep on was a pillow.

The next morning I had a crick in my neck, and a guard said, "Quagmire, you got a visitor."

A crick in your neck plus a visitor equals: a very strange morning. I wasn't surprised it was Isadora. But I was surprised no one, not even John, came with her.

"Hi," she said. I said nothing. I could say nothing, after the drama of the week.

"Look," she said. "I just came to tell you the war's over."

I laughed. "What war, Private Ryan?" She ignored the humor. "You know what war. The fight we had the other day. I'm sorry Violet and I got a little…crazy. You just hurt her feelings. I guess we never thought we might have hurt yours. If you weren't smart enough to act, we wouldn't be alive. So thanks, Duncan."

I didn't feel like commenting on the subject. Mornings in prison without coffee are grim and banal. I felt so tired I could hardly move my jaw to say, "But what can I do? I'm still in jail. Anybody gonna get me out?"

Isadora winced. "We'll get you out," she said. "It turns out, Pierce is going to live. But he'll be locked away in juvenile for quite some time. Then we'll get you out."

I scowled. "How long till he's put away, Izzy? Some philosopher Klaus always used to talk about once said 'War is hell'. But they probably haven't been to jail. I can't stand it."

She grimaced at the floor a while, and said, "We'll get you out, Duncan. Count on it."

"If you don't get me out, I'll break out," I threatened. She said nothing, and left.


	7. Climax

I was released from jail, and boy, was that a relief! But I was on probation. And when I got back to Prufrock, it got even better.

Isadora had left. Literally. She had picked up, collected her inheritance, and walked out on us. But she left a note on my pillow (how she got in I don't know, but my guess would be the lock pick Violet made for her).

After reading it, I grimaced and just as I was about to hurl a bloody rage at the person who knocked on my door, my cell phone rang.

I pulled it out, flipped it open, and hit the green phone button. "Hello?" I spat through gritted teeth.

"Duncan?" asked the female voice on the other end. Jenny.

"Jenny? What's going on?" I asked.

"You were released!" _No_, I thought. _I'm in prison but they let me keep my cell phone with me, as long as a lock-pick, my wallet, my keys and ID._

"Look, Duncan," she continued, "we need to talk."

I couldn't let myself hear her words. In a blind fury I flung the phone out the window. It glided over some rooftops, over some heads and past a few windows. Then it landed in the courtyard pond and sullenly sank. I had to admit, I had a pretty good throwing arm.

A couple sitting on the bench near the pond jumped up and sprinted away like it was an air raid.

My day got better and better. Principal Verne called me to his office, and demanded that I become a better person or I would be expelled. And he had the expulsion form right in front of him, all filled out and everything. Actually, it was in an envelope.

"One more strike, Quagmire," he snarled. "One more strike and you're out of the game. Now go to lunch."

I stomped out of the office and walked to the cafeteria. Pierce's brother Pollock was there. After taking a slice of pizza I propped down, and he grabbed my shoulder, taking that part of my shirt in a bunch.

"So," he hissed, "you thought you won by killing my brother, huh? Well, you got it all wrong, Quagmire. You made a huge mistake killing my brother. Now you'll pay!"

He was taller and broader than I. He dragged me out and threw me to the ground. I couldn't put up a good fight, not against this guy.

He pulled out a knife. I mean, the thing was like a dagger. Or an Army combat blade. Whatever it was, I didn't want to find out.

I jumped up and tore to the pond, hoping I could find my cell phone, dial 9-1-1, and survive this. He was quicker, and wrapped his long, muscular arm around my neck. I wheezed loudly gasping for air.

Taking a large stick on the ground I whirled madly around and clubbed him in the face as hard as I could. He fell backwards, blood pooling on his face. He hurled the knife at me.

I batted it away with the club and dropped to my knees. I was dog tired, and plunged into the pond.

I'm not very good at opening my eyes under water, but I could see in a blurry vision my cell phone, silver and all. I picked it up, and I saw something else lurking in the water.

It was a brooch. It was bright green and I picked that up as well. Coming to the surface drenched, I looked at it.

It was Violet Baudelaire's brooch. She must have lost it. And I figured it was time I paid her a visit.

First I showered in my dorm, dried off and put on clean clothes. Walking to her room, brooch in hand, I knocked. The door opened by itself.

She and a guy named Terrence Owen were sitting on her bed, talking. She glared up at me.

"Duncan! Can't you knock?" she exclaimed. I opened my mouth to speak, but she saw the green glitter in my hand. She ran up and snatched it out.

"Where did you get this?" she demanded.

"The pond," I said. "I saw it floating around, and I knew it was yours so I brought it."

"You know what I think?" Terrence said. "I think you stole it and threw it in the pond, and got it out and gave it to Violet because you still like her. I think you're a thief, Quagmire."

"I think you need to shut up, Owen," I snapped. I felt pretty crabby.

_SMACK! _Violet's hand came across sharp and caught me across the face. _"You_ need to shut up, Duncan," she shouted. "And you need to leave—right now!"

She slammed the door in my face. I felt a rumble in my throat and stormed back to my room.

I had always liked her. I let Jenny get in the way. I even allowed Quigley, my own brother to have her. But she didn't love me in return.

Sorely disappointed, I wiped my phone clean and dialed Isadora's number. Nothing answered. Not even an answering machine.

She had rid her cell phone. Probably returned it to the dealership.

As I looked in the mirror, I saw no one other than Duncan Quagmire. I loved Violet Baudelaire. But she liked Terrence instead. I wanted her and nothing more than for Terrence and her to break up so I could have her.

But that wasn't possible. From the day fire tore my house apart and took my parents, I'd seen nothing but grief.

But when I returned to school and saw Summer Sanders checking me out, I decided to get on with my life. It was no use staying around like a car stuck in six-foot-deep mud. I had to move on.


End file.
